


Beauchamp Family Matriarch

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Witches of East End (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Female Characters, Female Protagonist, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3161537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I need to release this grief.  I need to find my equilibrium again.  I have to be the strong one for my girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauchamp Family Matriarch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raktajinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/gifts).



> Date Written: 9-11 January 2015  
> Word Count: 1386  
> Written for: [](http://gifts-of-east-end.tumblr.com)[**gifts-of-east-end**](http://gifts-of-east-end.tumblr.com) holiday exchange 2014  
>  Recipient: [](http://janeways-socks.tumblr.com)[](http://janeways-socks.tumblr.com)**janeways-socks**  
>  Summary: I need to release this grief. I need to find my equilibrium again. I have to be the strong one for my girls.  
> Spoilers: Takes place immediately after ep 02x13 "For Whom The Spell Tolls", so the entire series is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: While she doesn't die in this story, it does deal with the fact that Wendy is dead.  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: <http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/>  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Witches of East End," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Melisa de la Cruz, Lifetime Television, and Fox 21. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Witches of East End," Lifetime, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This is the first story I've written for _Witches of East End_. That it's a Joanna POV piece should not be a surprise to anyone who knows me. That it's kind of maudlin, but with a hint of curtain!fic should also not be a surprise to anyone who knows me. There are aspects of Joanna Beauchamp that are similar to Regina Mills. Oh hell! There are! Well, that makes a lot more sense now.
> 
> And for the record, I have been trying and discarding ideas for this story for the past month. Nothing really seemed to gel properly. I think I needed to not be so worried about what to write, so that I _could_ write. And then this idea came along and I let it take wing. I think it was a matter of being nervous about my first story in this fandom. I always get this nervous with the first story in a fandom. I hope this story suits my recipient.
> 
> Dedication: My muses, as always…
> 
> Beta: [](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/)**shatterpath** , but all remaining errors are entirely on me.

I sit down at my desk, eyes burning from a potent combination of grief and exhaustion. It might hurt more if the tears hadn't lubricated them so much. After a handful of deep breaths and a couple of healthy swallows of my favorite merlot, I pick up my fountain pen and open my journal to the last entry.

 

> I need to release this grief. I need to find my equilibrium again. I have to be the strong one for my girls. They're the only family I have left. Tarkoff killed Victor. Wendy and Frederick are dead, both ultimately at my father's hands, even if he didn't outright kill Wendy. Thankfully, my father is also dead, which makes me the rightful Queen of Asgard. It also makes my daughters de facto heirs to the same throne, if they choose it.
> 
> But none of that will matter if I can't keep control of my own emotions right now. Queens aren't allowed to show emotions, especially not in public. No one can see their leader being anything less than perfectly strong and capable. Emotions and weakness are luxuries that I cannot afford if I am to return Asgard to what it once was. The Beauchamp line has ruled Asgard for centuries. I need to ensure that my daughters have the opportunity to claim their birthright as princesses of Asgard.
> 
> They don't understand what it's like to live this life that I've lived. None of them ever have: not my daughters, my former lover, or my sisters. Especially not my sisters. I spared my girls much of that burden. But my sisters? Neither of them ever truly understood the burden that came with being the eldest, the heir apparent. Both to the throne of Asgard and the matriarchy of the Beauchamp lineage. All they saw was their eldest sister being groomed for everything while they were mostly overlooked and ignored.
> 
> Mother understood what was happening. She didn't try to stop it, of course, because no one crossed Father's laws, not even his queen. But she did what she could to mitigate the damage that Father wrought on the three of us girls. He sought to divide and conquer, which only made things worse. Especially after Mother died. No, she was never truly healthy after giving birth to Wendy. Choosing to continue trying to give Father sons only made the inevitable happen sooner.
> 
> Helena was a classic middle child, barely a year younger than me. She was Father's second attempt at a son. Well, technically his third, after the miscarriage and me. Helena tried so hard to gain the respect and attention given positively to me and negatively to Wendy. Nothing she did was ever good enough or bad enough to warrant more than a passing glance. She over-exceled at all she did, taking her role to heart as the "spare" to my heir. There were days that Helena knew more than I did, especially after Mother died. I know now that it was Helena's greatest ambition to prove to Father that she was more suited to rule after him than I was. It was what ultimately killed her and had her banished to the Underworld to determine other people's fates.
> 
> And Wendy? She came along three years after Helena, just four years younger than I am. She went off to sow her wild oats every chance she got and never tried to grow out of her rebellious child phase. She's always been the risk-taker in the family. I blame it on her cat-shifter abilities and the fact that Mother tended to spoil her rotten back in Asgard. If Mother had been able to carry a child to term again after her birth, perhaps Wendy wouldn't have been such a wild child because Father wouldn't have blamed her for his lack of sons. And when Helena was gone, Father put more pressure on Wendy to be a proper daughter and secondary heir. But it was too late.
> 
> But what's done is done. They're all gone and it's just me and my girls now.

 

A knock at the door gives me pause and I set aside my pen to wipe at my face. The girls don't need to see me crying. Another gulp of wine gives me the courage to speak.

"Come in." Dear god, does my voice really sound that rough?

The door opens, but the face that appears is not that of Ingrid, Freya, or even Wendy. But it's still a beloved face that helps to ease the slightest bit of tension around my soul. She doesn't hesitate to come fully into the room, door closing behind her with an absentminded flick of her wrist, and pulls me toward her.

"Alex?"

"Shh," she murmurs, gently guiding my head to her shoulder as she holds me close. "I've got you now, Joanna."

In the space between one breath and the next, my closely guarded walls crumble with a muffled sob against her neck.

*****

I have no idea how much time passes as I cry in her arms, but when my surroundings once again make themselves known, we're stretched out on the couch in front of the fire. Alex is behind me, big spoon to my little, and a blanket covers both of us.

"What--? How--?"

"Shh," Alex replies again, hand tracing gentle circles on my stomach. The movement is soothing, working with my lethargy and the warmth of the fire to lull me back into this state of just _being_. "Just relax, Joanna. For right now, nothing exists outside of this room."

"But the girls--"

"The girls are dealing with their own issues right now."

I struggle to get up. "I should be helping them." When Alex's arms tighten around my waist, I turn my head to stare at her. "What are you doing? My girls need me."

"Right now, _you_ need you. And you need to step back from being the one who fixes everyone else's problems. Just be Joanna right now. Not the queen of Asgard, not the mother, not the sister, not the eldest of the Beauchamps. Not even the woman who captured and broke my heart. Just be _Joanna_. Put yourself first for once in your life."

"I don't know how," I finally whisper, feeling that bone-deep exhaustion creeping to the fore again.

She leans in to press the gentlest of kisses to my lips. "Then let me help you. You don't have to do this alone, Joanna. Even the strongest back will break under too much pressure. And I, for one, do not want to see you broken."

"A queen must never be seen as weak," I reply automatically, my father's voice echoing in my head. "It casts a poor light on her ability to rule."

"Stop that." Her hand shifts to grip my chin tightly. "You are _not_ your father, nor are you your mother. You are Joanna Beauchamp, Queen of Asgard. You are a woman who has suffered a tremendous amount of loss in the recent past. But one thing I do know for sure is that you are not alone in dealing with your loss or your responsibilities. Let me in, Joanna. Let me help you. Let your daughters help you. You are _not_ alone."

"I--"

I can't finish the thought, lifelong lessons rearing their ugly head in an attempt to lock my weaknesses away. Through it all, Alex never once blinks or looks away. Love and support shine in eyes gilded by the fire behind me. Her grip loosens on my chin, but she doesn't pull her hand away, and I'm grateful for that touch.

"Joanna?"

"I'll try," I finally say past the lump in my throat. "I can't promise that I'll easily open up and share my burden, but I'll try."

Alex smiles and brushes her lips across mine again. "And that's all anyone can ask of you. Thank you for making the attempt."

"Thank you for caring enough to want me to make the attempt."

"Always." She pulls me close and I nuzzle into the curve of her neck again out of old habit. "Rest now, Joanna. You're exhausted, but you're not alone."

Not alone.

And the last thought I have before sleep claims me is that I think I could get used to that.


End file.
